


The Night Before

by skargasm



Series: Postcards [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What led to Derek sending that postcard?</p>
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            </blockquote>





	1. How it all began.....

The forest was beautiful – the scents now so familiar to him after nearly a year of roaming freely through them. They weren’t like the forest at home—Beacon Hills had been home to the Hale family for generations and there was a connection that could never been denied. Not that he would want to—ultimately, Beacon Hills was home. But he was more than willing to admit that it had been incredibly freeing to just BE—an omega for the time being, yet free from the loss of family, the pain of _always_ fighting. the pack he had rebuilt and then lost. Again. Being here had given him the freedom to admit and assimilate all of the pain and hurt, made him realise how constrained and tied down he had felt. Obligation had dragged him back to Beacon Hills too many times. The next time he went back, it would be because it was what he wanted, because he really thought he could make a happy life for himself.

He had built himself quite a satisfactory life here—he had friends: Max at the coffee shop who he shared a grunted conversation with nearly every morning; Claus who owned the butcher’s and was always happy and willing to buy any game Derek brought to him, as well as occasionally running with Derek under a full moon. Satisfactory but not complete in all ways—not until now. 

Leaving Stiles behind had actually been harder than leaving everything else. They’d made no promises to each other—Derek had even wondered about a potential relationship between Stiles and Malia. The entire situation with Stiles had finally come to a head that night before he left. Ridiculous timing but so very much the way his life worked. Somehow, Stiles had ended up talking about what had happened in the basement of Eichen House. The younger man had been at turns embarrassed and discomfited—he wasn’t sure if he had been in possession of all of his faculties whether he would have had sex with Malia. That, a lack of protection and the fact that mentally she had been a coyote for the better part of eight years had all combined to squick him out about the whole thing. But Stiles had a romantic streak—he wanted the woman he lost his virginity to to be someone special—despite his pleas for someone to ‘sex him up’ during the terror that had been their time fighting the Darach. Ultimately he wasn’t a string of one night stands kind of person. It had been a difficult conversation because Derek was aware that Stiles was under age, had been through huge amounts of physical and emotional trauma and possibly needed therapy a hell of a lot more than he needed a relationship. But he’d also been keenly aware that Stiles had been making adult decisions from the time Scott was first bitten so he deserved to be treated like an adult. 

“Do you—was it okay?” He deliberately didn’t think about his first time with Kate, how she had talked to him, how she had treated him. 

“Yeah, I mean, when I talked to Scott I told him it was awesome and everything because it kinda felt like that’s what he expected to hear but—I mean it was awkward and a little uncomfortable. Fortunately I barely lasted thirty seconds so the discomfort didn’t last long.”

“Stiles—“

“It’s okay, I’m not struggling with performance anxiety, you know? Less than ideal circumstances, thought I was dying of dementia, possessed, both virgins—I’m just glad I didn’t hurt her and no little baby were-coyotes are expected because that was several different levels of stupid right there.”

“If I say you weren’t in your right mind, would you be insulted?”

“Heh! I don’t get how people think you have no sense of humour—you’re almost as witty as me!” Stiles had looked down at his hands, the smile fading from his face. “I just—I’m confused. Because I thought it would be something—I dunno, _more_? I wasn’t expecting fireworks exactly but I thought my heart would be as involved as my body and it just—wasn’t.”

Derek’s heart had ached because he knew exactly what Stiles was talking about. Making love should be more than scratching a physical itch or getting rid of a social construct—it should be an expression of how you felt about the person you were with rather than clinging to someone else because you felt adrift. That was how his parents had explained it to him anyway, and their marriage had shown him that something like that was possible. It was what he had thought he could have with Paige and then Kate. Jennifer had been—well, witchcraft and confusion and feeling violated. Yes, he understood what Stiles felt.

Without even thinking about it, he’d dragged the younger man into a hug, shocked at his own actions and yes, desires. Because it wasn’t just that he wanted to comfort Stiles—he wanted, well he just plain _wanted_. Stunned into silence by the realisation, he’d simply maintained the hug, expecting Stiles to protest and pull free. But he hadn’t—he’d stepped into Derek’s body, wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, buried his face in Derek’s neck and just – breathed. It had been so incredibly peaceful, so soothing a moment that Derek had thought he could have quite happily gone to sleep standing there holding Stiles in his arms. But – 

“Stiles, I—“

“Don’t. Please don’t say anything. Because I’m just realising that I’m feeling more in the way of fireworks standing here with you than actually having sex with Malia and my thoughts on my sexuality and any ambiguities therein are slightly muddled.”

“Is that your way of saying you might not be entirely straight? Because if so—“

“Oh God, me and my big mouth! Please don’t kill me. What you’re feeling pressed against you is a perfectly normal physical reaction for any teenage person, let alone one being held by someone as physically attractive as you, so—“ 

“Stiles, werewolves are really not that fussed about gender.”

“Oh. Okay. So—does that mean it’s not a roll of quarters in your pocket and you’re sort of as happy as I am to be like this?” His voice was muffled as he had refused to move his face from where it was nestled against Derek’s neck, the warmth of his breath gusting gently over the skin and raising goose-bumps. 

“Shut up Stiles.” And somehow that had morphed into kissing the smile off of Stiles’ face as he finally moved it from where it was hidden, pleased at the lurch Stiles gave before his arms tightened around Derek’s waist and he returned the kiss with clumsy enthusiasm. For a moment, Derek allowed himself to just enjoy it—enjoy the softness of Stiles’ lips, the slow learning of his mouth, the way he tasted—the feel of that long, lean body pressed against him from chest to groin. Just for a moment. 

Reluctantly he pulled back, finding himself giving gentle pecks against Stiles’ lips, nose and forehead as he pulled away until he could look into Stiles’ face properly. 

“Stiles, I—“ 

“Please please please, don’t let this be the start of your letting me down gently although that would be infinitely better than ripping my throat out with your teeth so, you know, verbally eviscerate away as you see fit.”

“I’m not trying to let you down gently. And no, I’m not carrying a roll of quarters in my pocket—I AM that pleased to be holding you. But, Stiles—you and I—more than anything, more than a relationship, we need time to heal, probably therapy because—“

“No, I get it—I mean, as far as rejections go it’s actually not—“

“I’m not rejecting you Stiles! Does this feel like I’m rejecting you?” This was pressing their hips together and groaning at how it felt, how much it aroused him. “I don’t do casual. Never have—not built for it. And you—you appeal to **all** aspects of me which means I could fall faster and harder than ever before. If this happens—if **we** happen, I would like us both to be physically and mentally heathy.”

“Well, damn. Your longest speech ever in the existence of conversations between us and it’s an eloquent and heart-breaking break up speech before we’ve even dated. I’m—wow, I’m close to speechless.”

“Look, after Kate almost killed me—that whole thing in Mexico when she tried to de-age me? The berserkers and the stuff with my eyes changing back to yellow?—I KNOW I need to sort myself out. I’ve spent the time since New York fighting for my life one way or another. I would really like a relationship that starts from a place of honesty and is healthy and _legal_.” He saw the moment when Stiles understood and he felt something inside relax. “I am most definitely interested in you. I would really like to find out what fireworks we can create together. Just—maybe the timing is off?” 

“You’re leaving Beacon Hills aren’t you?”

* * *


	2. ...leading up to now.

Why hadn’t he ever realised Stiles was the only one who could read him so incredibly well? He had been wilfully blind, there was no other explanation. 

“Not for good, no. That’s why I asked you to hang around after Scott and the others left. I didn’t want to disappear without you knowing what as in my head.” And now he finally understood some of the arrangements he had made in the name of ‘pack’.

“So, where are you going? What will you be doing?”

“Chris Argent set me up with a therapist who knows about the supernatural. She’s going to help me get my head straightened out.”

“That’s—good, yeah, that sounds good.”

“Stiles, I spoke to Deaton and he found someone for you to talk to—some safe who you can be honest with. If you want that is. And obviously the other pack members can too.”

“Look, oh man, that is so cool but money—my dad and the hospital bills are just—“

“Don’t get mad okay? Just—remember how many times you’ve saved my life, been there for me like after Boyd was murdered. Understand that this comes with no strings or attachments. Just—“

“What did you do?”

“The Hale Pack look after each other. In all aspects of life. I may no longer be the Alpha, and the Hale pack has become part of the McCall Pack, but the responsibility remains. And with that money returned—“

“I don’t want your money Derek! Jesus, we make out once and you want to pay my bills?”

“LISTEN! You’re pack, family, whatever. Whether we’re in a relationship or not. And so is Scott, Kira, Lydia, and God save us all, Jackson. There is money there for all of you. 117 million goes a long way.”

He could tell that Stiles was struggling—his pride versus the possibility of removing the stress and worry currently suffocating his father. He watched his face as his confused turned to slow understanding and acceptance that pack meant looking after each other—what one had, they all had. 

“So, what you just shove past Peter and take a handful of those bonds?”

“Peter doesn’t necessarily know where all of the money is. Remember, Laura was the Alpha and I lived with her. So, will you accept? And maybe talk to Scott? It’s not money to turn yourselves into Jackosn clones—God forbid. It’s for college, emergencies, that kind of thing.”

“Just how much have you put aside for us? And how exactly do we explain this to our parents?”

“You’re clever, you’ll think of a way. So.”

“Huh. So. You know it’s gonna take months, right? I mean, if we’re talking about dealing with all of our emotional baggage, it could take _decades_ because you are chock full of issues and I might just have a few of my own. Maybe.”

“A year. This is new. And it could be more. But we can wait a year, right? For it to be good for us both—we can wait for that?” He didn’t want to think he was pleading but he knew there was an edge of that in his voice. He couldn’t quite believe how quickly this had come upon him but it felt right somehow and he needed to know that Stiles was on board with it so that he could have the peace of mind necessary to do what he needed to do. 

“So, what, no contact or what? How does this work?” Trust Stiles to get to the meat of the problem straight away. 

“I hadn’t expected this so haven’t really worked out the finer details. You caught me off guard, which is really quite typical of you so I don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Are you gonna—I mean, other people or just—“

“I—you’re a teenager, just figuring out who you are. If you – while I’m away you can, you know, if you want. Because it’s about figuring out who we are. I would understand. You have unfinished business with Malia if nothing else.”

“Yeah? That’s really obliging of you. So I’ll be just as honest back—you know, in the interest of being up front and above board. I wouldn’t understand. I wouldn’t—I don’t want you with anyone else. Seeing you with Jennifer was just—ugh, there aren’t words so—“ If he inwardly preened at Stiles’ words, he hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“I get it. And you don’t need to—monogamy is my default setting.”

“But you don’t care if I—“

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t care—just that I understand. So—“

“You do realise that word isn’t a sentence in its own right don’t you? Okay, so what if I don’t want to? Explore with other people I mean? What if I’m happy with my impressive toy collection and bumper bottle of lube and oh my god, how I didn’t realise I was at least bisexual before now I really have no idea!” 

Derek gulped at the imagery Stiles had conjured up with his talk of personal toys and lube making it extremely difficult to remember he wanted to hold off. Needed to.

“Did I break you? You’ve stopped talking, your eyes just flashed yellow at me and I can feel you growling against my chest which is way more of a turn on than I ever expected it to be and—wow, you’re kinda built big all over aren’t you?”

“Stiles—“

“Okay, okay, I won’t mention the fact that I’m about forty seconds away from coming in my pants because you’re still holding me and our dicks are rubbing together. Not mentioning, not thinking about it. At all. God, just—“

“STILES!” I leave tomorrow.”

“What? NO—just, talk about boner killer, that was just fucking perfect! Tomorrow? And you wait until now to show me that my excruciatingly obvious and embarrassing crush is returned? That is levels of evil that I have never seen!”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a penchant for melodrama?”

“Dude, tomorrow?” Derek nodded, regretting the fact that he was leaving so soon but also aware it was probably for the best. “So tonight, or rather the early of this morning are all we’ve got? Can we—I mean—“ The sounds of ‘I Fought the Law’ broke through the tension and Stiles started and swore. “My Dad—which means I need to go home which means—dammit, Derek, why couldn’t you have said something before?”

“I guess if you were going to reject me I could get away immediately. And honestly, I’m not sure I would have told you at all if things you shared – just. Yeah. That.”

“Damn it, I have to go. This completely sucks.” Derek had allowed Stiles to pull away despite the fact that everything inside him said to hold on tight and never let go. He knew that Stiles’ relationship with the Sheriff was only just getting back onto an even keel and how important it was to Stiles that he not do anything that would add to his father’s stress. My best friend is a werewolf and I’ve been killing supernatural creatures on school nights had really not done much for the man’s health. So despite the desperate desire to keep Stiles here, he had to let him go. Encourage him to go. “Derek, I—“

“There’s a letter in your room” (or there would be by the time Stiles drove back home and explained himself to the Sheriff) “It’s got email address, postal address. Take the time – do the therapy. Think about it. I’ll be doing the same. And I swear the moment I feel ready, you will be the first to know.”

The kiss Stiles gave him was bittersweet—chaste but loving, the feel of it lingering long after Stiles had clattered out of the loft. He’d had to hurry to get the quickly scrawled letter to Stiles’ room and get out without being caught. It had been tempting to stay – to make out with Stiles just a little more but he really wanted to do things right this time. Stiles meant that much to him. 

And now, eleven months and seventeen days later, Stiles was here. No more skyping, emails, stunted telephone calls and epic letters. He was here and Derek had never felt so ready for anything in his entire life.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I was all set to write the smut that is chapter 3 of Postcards when Derek started talking in my ear, basically saying that you guys hadn't heard his side of things. Since he doesn't talk very often and is even more rarely listened to, I decided to pay attention and that's why you have 'The Night Before'. Derek hastens to assure you all that the smut is definitely coming - pun intended! I hope this in some ways helps you prepare for this week's episode!
> 
> For those following, the Taming the Muse prompt this week is : Fireworks
> 
> Run 1 : Week 204  
> Run 2 : Week 62
> 
> Four more weeks and reach my four year goal - yehah!


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